Eckert gnawed2 the dainty meat off a slender ulami bone and tried to appear casual in his questioning.
"I am sure he was, Nayova. I am sure, too, that you were as kind to him as you have been to Templin and myself. My Government is grateful to you for that."
Nayova seemed pleased. "We tried to do as well for menshar Pendleton as we could. While he was here, he had the house that you have now and we saw that he was supplied with food and all other necessities."
Eckert had a sudden clammy feeling which quickly passed away. What Nayova had said was something he'd make sure Templin never heard about. He wiped his mouth on a broad, flat leaf that had been provided and took another sip3 of the wine.
"We were shocked to find out that menshar Pendleton had killed himself. We knew him quite well and we could not bring ourselves to believe he had done such a thing."
Nayova's gaze slid away from him. "Perhaps it was the will of the Great One," he said vaguely4. He didn't seem anxious to talk about it.
Eckert stared bleakly5 at his wine glass and tried to put the pieces of information together. They probably had a taboo6 about self-destruction which would make it difficult to talk about. That would make it even harder for him to find out by direct questioning.
A native fife trilled shrilly7 and a group of young men and women walked into the room. The circle broke to let them through and they came and knelt before Nayova. When he clapped his hands sharply, they retreated to the center of the circle and began the slow motions of a native dance.
The sound of the fife softened9 and died and the slow monotonous10 beat of drums took its place. The beat slowly increased and so did the rhythm of the dancers. The small fires at the corners of the hut were allowed to dwindle11 and the center of the circle became filled with the motions of shadows intermixed with the swift, sure movements of glistening12 limbs. Eckert felt his eyebrows13 crawl upward. Apparently14 the dance was the Tunpeshan version of the rites15 de passage. He glanced across the circle at Templin. Templin's face—what he could see of it by the flickering16 light—was brick red.
A voice spoke17 in his ear. "It is hard for us to imagine anybody doing what menshar Pendleton did. It is ..." and he used a native word that Eckert translated as being roughly equivalent to "obscene."
The dancers at the center of the circle finally bowed out with small garlands of flowers on their heads that signified their reaching adulthood18. Acrobats19 then took the stage and went through a dizzying routine, and they in turn were succeeded by a native singer.
They were all excellent, Eckert thought. If anything, they were too good.
The bowl of pelache nuts made its way around again and Nayova leaned over to speak to him. "If there is any possibility that I can help you while you are here, menshar Eckert, you have but to ask."
It would probably be a mistake to ask for a list of Pendleton's friends, but there was a way around that. "I would like to meet any of your people who had dealings with Pendleton, either in business or socially. I will do everything not to inconvenience them in any way."
"I think they would be glad to help you. I shall ask them to go to you this coming week."
It wasn't a driving rain, just a gentle drizzle20 that made the lanes muddy and plastered Eckert's tunic21 against him. He didn't mind it; the rain was warm and the trees and grass smelled good in the wet.
"How would you classify the culture after seeing the ceremony, Ted8?" Templin asked.
"About what you would expect. An Apollonian culture, simple and dignified22. Nothing in excess, no striving for great emotional release."
Templin nodded soberly. "It grows on you, doesn't it? You find yourself getting to like the place. And I suppose that's dangerous, too. You tend to let your guard down, the way Pendleton must have. You—what was that?"
Eckert tensed. There was a gentle padding in the mud, several hundred feet behind them. Templin flattened23 himself in the shadows alongside a house. His hand darted24 inside his tunic and came out with the slim deadliness of a needle gun.
"Don't use it!" Eckert whispered tersely25.
Templin's eyes were thin, frightened slits26 in the darkness. "Why not?"
Eckert's mind raced. It might be nothing at all, and then again it might be disaster. But there was still a chance that Templin might be wrong. And there were more immediate27 reasons.
"How many charges do you have for that?"
"Twelve."
"You think you can stand there and hold them off with only twelve charges for your needle gun?"
"There's my power pack."
"It's no good," Eckert said softly. "The batteries in it are dead. I was afraid you might do something foolish with it."
The footsteps were only yards away. He listened intently, but it was hard to tell how many there were by the sound.
"What do we do then?"
"See if they're following us first," Eckert said practically. "They might not be, you know."
They slid out from the shadows and ducked down another lane between the houses. The footsteps behind them speeded up and came down the same lane.
"We'll have to head back for our house," Eckert whispered.
They started running as quietly as they could, slipping and sliding in the mud. Another stretch past the shuttered, crouching28 houses and they found themselves in the square they had visited on the day they had landed. It was deserted29, the looms30 and pottery31 wheels covered with cloth and reeds to keep off the rain. They darted across it, two thin shadows racing32 across the open plaza33, and hurried down another path.
The last path led to the small river that cut through the city. Templin looked around, gestured to Eckert, waded34 into the water and crouched35 under the small bridge that spanned it. Eckert swore silently to himself, then followed Templin in.
The cold water swirled36 under his armpits and he bit his lips to keep himself from sneezing. Templin's emotions were contagious37. Would he have worried about the footsteps? He frowned and tried to be honest with himself. Perhaps he would—and perhaps he wouldn't have. But he couldn't have let Templin stay there and face the unknown approachers. Not Templin.
Footsteps approached the bridge, hesitated a moment, then pattered on the wooden structure and faded off down the muddy path. Eckert let his breath out slowly. The footsteps were curiously38 light.
There was only one pair of them.
"I would like to know something," Templin said coldly. He stripped off his power pack and let it fall to the floor of their house. "Why did you decide to substitute dead batteries in the pack?"
"Because," Eckert said shortly, "I was afraid you would do something with it that you might regret later. You're inexperienced in situations like this. Your reactions aren't to be trusted. One false move here and we could follow Pendleton, however he died. You know that." He wriggled39 out of his tunic and slowly peeled off his wet trousers.
There was a timid knock at the door. He wrapped a blanket about himself and motioned to Templin to stand to one side. Templin grabbed a small stool, hefted it in one hand, and complied.
Eckert went to the door and casually40 threw it open.
A girl stood there, half in the outer darkness and half in the yellowish light from the room, covered with mud to the knees and drenched41 to the skin.
"The menshar forgot this at the halera," she said softly. She quickly handed him his pipe and a soggy bag of tobacco, and disappeared instantly into the rain. He listened for the sound of her footsteps in the soft mud and then closed the door.
Templin put down the stool and stared stupidly at the pipe and the tobacco sack. Eckert placed them carefully on the table and began to towel himself.
"We probably face as much danger from our own imaginations as from anything else," he said grimly. "Tell me, would you have fired first, or would you have waited until you found out for sure who she was and what she wanted when she first started to follow us?"
"I don't know," Templin said sullenly42.
"Then I'll leave to your imagination the position we would be in now, if you had given in to your impulse."
"We haven't found out much, have we?" Templin demanded some days later.
"No," Eckert admitted. "We haven't."
He riffled through the thick stack of cards on the table. Statistically43, the results were not only interesting but slightly phenomenal. During the three years or so that Pendleton had been on Tunpesh, he had met and known approximately seven hundred of the natives. By far the greater majority of these, of course, were purely44 casual and meant nothing. Almost a hundred, though, had had extended relations with Pendleton in business or social affairs. Of this hundred, none—not a single one—would admit that he had known Pendleton well or could be considered a friend of his. About all they had to say was that Pendleton had been healthy and easy to get along with, and one warm night he had shocked the community by going off and shooting himself.
"Like Richard Cory," Eckert said aloud.
"Like who?" Templin asked.
"Richard Cory. A character in a poem by a Twentieth Century poet, Edwin Arlington Robinson. Apparently he had everything to live for, but 'Richard Cory, one calm summer night, went home and put a bullet through his head.'"
"I'll have to look it up some day," Templin said. He pointed45 to the stack of cards. "That's so much waste paper, isn't it?"
"Yes, it is," Eckert said reluctantly. "To be frank, I had hoped we'd know a lot more by now. I still can't understand why we haven't dug up anybody who will admit having been his friend."
"How do you know they're telling the truth? Or, for that matter, how do you know that the ones we've seen so far are the ones who actually knew Pendleton?"
Eckert drummed his fingers on the table. You handle different human cultures for twenty-five years and you get to the point where you can tell if people are lying or not. Or do you? Maybe just an old man's conceit46. Age alone never lent wisdom. Regardless of the personal reasons that Templin might have for thinking the Tunpeshans are lying, the fact remains47 that they very easily could be. And what should you do if they are?
There was a polite knock at the door.
"We've got another visitor," Templin said sarcastically48. "He probably saw Pendleton at a halera four years ago and wants to be sure we know all about it."
The Tunpeshan looked faintly familiar to Eckert. There was something about the man's carriage....
"I met you the day you landed," the Tunpeshan began, and Eckert remembered. Jathong, the guide who had shown them to the house.
"You knew Pendleton?"
Jathong nodded. "I and a fellow weaver49 took over his small office after he had left it." Eckert recalled the small office in the square with the bolts of cloth on display, and the small mud brick on the window ledge50 with the incised lettering reading:
DONALD PENDLETON, SERVICE ATTACHE.
"Why you didn't tell us this before?"
"I didn't know what kind and how much information you wanted."
We didn't ask him, Eckert thought, so he didn't volunteer any information. Polite, to say the least.
"How long did you know him?"
"Since he landed. I was the one appointed to him."
"What do you mean—appointed to him?"
"To try to learn his language, and try to teach him ours."
Eckert felt his interest rising. Jathong, then, must have known Pendleton fairly well.
"Did he have any enemies that you know of?"
"Enemies?" Jathong seemed ignorant of the meaning of the word, so Eckert explained. "No, he had no enemies. He would naturally have none such on Tunpesh."
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1
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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gnawed
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| 咬( gnaw的过去式和过去分词 )； （长时间） 折磨某人； （使）苦恼； （长时间）危害某事物 | |
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sip
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| v.小口地喝，抿，呷；n.一小口的量 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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bleakly
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| 无望地，阴郁地，苍凉地 | |
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taboo
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| n.禁忌，禁止接近，禁止使用；adj.禁忌的；v.禁忌，禁制，禁止 | |
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shrilly
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| 尖声的； 光亮的，耀眼的 | |
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ted
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| vt.翻晒，撒，撒开 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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dwindle
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| v.逐渐变小（或减少） | |
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glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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rites
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| 仪式，典礼( rite的名词复数 ) | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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adulthood
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| n.成年，成人期 | |
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acrobats
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| n.杂技演员( acrobat的名词复数 )；立场观点善变的人，主张、政见等变化无常的人 | |
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drizzle
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| v.下毛毛雨；n.毛毛雨，蒙蒙细雨 | |
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tunic
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| n.束腰外衣 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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tersely
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| adv. 简捷地, 简要地 | |
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slits
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| n.狭长的口子，裂缝( slit的名词复数 )v.切开，撕开( slit的第三人称单数 )；在…上开狭长口子 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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looms
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| n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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plaza
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| n.广场，市场 | |
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waded
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| （从水、泥等）蹚，走过，跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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swirled
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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39
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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40
casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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41
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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statistically
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| ad.根据统计数据来看，从统计学的观点来看 | |
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44
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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conceit
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| n.自负，自高自大 | |
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47
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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48
sarcastically
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| adv.挖苦地，讽刺地 | |
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49
weaver
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| n.织布工；编织者 | |
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50
ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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